


Let Us Hand In Hand Struggle

by ninawritesastory



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, M/M, Referenced/Implied Suicide, Reincarnation AU, alexander hamilton has No Chill, alexander hamilton is still incredibly bi, consistently inconsistent pronouns and gender, i may expand on this later, john laurens has a FUCKTON of issues, john laurens is still incredibly gay, kind of a mix between the musical and history, no actual smut sorry, reincarnation hasn't solved a single one of them, remembering your past life at possibly the worst time, sexual/non-sexual nudity, they reincarnate as women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:45:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11956170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninawritesastory/pseuds/ninawritesastory
Summary: They came together quickly, and perhaps therein lies their inevitable downfall.





	Let Us Hand In Hand Struggle

**Author's Note:**

> I have become Lams trash in the extreme. Don't worry, though; the Jamilton fic I've been working on is still going. This just got into my head after reading a few analyses of John Laurens and his relationship with Hamilton via their letters. From what I can glean from history, John Laurens may have possessed a fairly strong suicidal tendency. Especially when it came to his relationship with Hamilton. It really puts that fatal skirmish and the Laurens Interlude into a whole new perspective. At least for me. 
> 
> Now, this is kind of a mess in terms of gender/pronouns, largely because I can't imagine reincarnating from one gender to another as anything other than messy. If I do decide to turn this into an actual story, I'll definitely resolve that one way or another. 
> 
> The title is taken from the last letter Hamilton ever sent to Laurens, written about twelve days before Laurens died. Another part of the quote is used further on in this, and the full quote goes: "Quit your sword my friend, put on the toga, come to Congress. We know each others sentiments, our views are the same: we have fought side by side to make America free, let us hand in hand struggle to make her happy."

Julia remembers the first time they have sex.

Erika is underneath her, red-gold curls forming a flaming halo around her, freckles dark against her flushed face, and her body is arching into every touch Julia places upon it. It hits her like a lightning bolt, and suddenly she remembers 1779. She remembers Erika--- _Alexander, my dear boy, my love_ \---beneath her--- _him, he’s a man, they’re both men, this is wrong, but it feels ** _right_** \---_head thrown back in pleasure, and it’s too much. Julia collapses to Erika’s side, sobbing pathetically as her lover pulls her close.

“My darling love,” Erika coos, her voice soft and full of comfort and love. “Are you okay?”

“Alexander,” she chokes out, and Erika stills for a moment.

“Oh, John,” she says, and something shatters inside Julia. “Laurens, my darling. You remember?”

Julia can’t reply, can’t form so much as a word. She sobs against Erika’s exposed flesh and her lover simply holds her, lets her get it all out. How long has Erika remembered? She’s pursued Julia relentlessly; fuck, they’d barely been roommates a week before Erika kissed her and they fell into bed.

“How long,” she finally chokes out, tears still falling from her eyes. “How long have you known?”

“I never knew,” Erika admits. “But I’ve suspected since day one. Your eyes are still that gorgeous sky blue.”

“My father won’t accept this,” Julia manages. “Mom won’t, either.”

Erika pulls her closer and snorts. “It’s not that big a deal anymore. We could even get married this time, if we want.”

Julia almost chokes. There’s a strange disconnect between her and what’s going on. She keeps expecting the firmer planes of a male body and it’s strange to find her hands caressing soft, feminine curves instead.

“I love you,” Erika asserts. “I’ve loved you since 1776 and I haven’t stopped. I never will. I love you so much more than words can express. Your death---your death _wrecked_  me like no other.”

“You had so much to live for,” Julia confesses, her voice small. “You were meant for greatness. You couldn’t have remained an honorable man if I’d lived.”

Erika’s nails dig slightly into Julia’s flesh.

“Don’t you dare tell me that you engaged that British party with the intention to die.”

“Then I will tell you nothing.”

“God _damnit_ , John,” Erika snaps, flipping them so she can pin Julia to the bed. “What honor did I have? A bastard, orphaned by a thoughtless father and a mother too ill to carry on? I had _nothing_ , John. But even when I had nothing, I had _you_!”

“You had Eliza,” Julia corrects, her voice still soft. “You had a son. You had a promising career as a lawyer and a statesman. If I’d lived, if I’d gone to Congress with you, you would have been ruined long before the Reynolds affair.”

“Ruin,” Erika hisses, eyes narrowed dangerously. “You speak of _ruin_? How _dare_  you debase yourself in such a manner! You _knew_  Eliza knew, you _knew_  I confided in her! Perhaps she would not have loved you as ardently as I, but she would have kept us!”

“You would have lost everything if anyone ever so much as _suspected_! You would have lost all of your credibility, your legacy would have been left in tatters, and your family mocked for decades if even so much as a _rumor_  began!”

Erika’s eyes squeeze shut, her forehead presses against Julia’s. It’s painfully intimate, and the sheer emotion in it is enough to choke Julia.

“We could never continue as we did during the war,” she adds, and Erika says nothing, but the grip on her wrists tightens a fraction. “You never shielded your emotions in your writings. Our sin would have destroyed you. If I had been stronger---”

“Our _sin_ ,” Erika mutters, spitting the word as though it were a curse. “There was nothing sinful about what we shared. My love for you was never in doubt. And it _was_  love. It _is_  love. If I was destined for ruin, I would have rather had it been out of the purity of our affections than from a moment of weakness.”

“Then you would have died long before Weehawken,” Julia dictates. “You would have been executed for sodomy. We both would have. The union would have been forever crippled financially, all of the good you did would have been undone or never attempted. I am not ashamed of my decision to die.”

Erika’s entire body flinches at the declaration, her eyes squeezed tight and her grip on Julia’s wrists just a hair shy of painful.

“I will never concede that argument,” the redhead warned. “Whatever your reasons, I will never believe your death to be a blessing. Your loss was a heartbreak from which I never recovered. I’ve lived fifteen years aware of my past, desperately seeking you out, unsure of what appearance you would take. I will not be deprived of you in this life as I was in the last. Swear this to me, John. _Please_.”

“My dear boy,” Julia murmurs, the grip on her wrist loosening enough for her break free and run her fingers through those gorgeous curls. “You’re far better off without me.”

“I assure you, my dear Laurens, I most emphatically am _not_.”

“You are,” Julia insists. “But I won’t seek death out in this life. I will stay until you come to your senses or life tires of me, whichever comes first.”

“Death shall have to pry you from my embrace,” Erika warns. “Two-hundred and twenty-nine years I’ve longed for you. I’ll not let you go willingly.”

It’s almost damning, in the same vein as the elegantly looped _“Quit your sword, my friend, put on the toga, come to Congress.”_  Tears well in Julia’s eyes once more. A second life, a second chance, but what future could they possibly have? While the climate was far less harsh towards sentiments such as these, if Alexander’s insistence won out over John’s own sense, they would be forever fighting an endless and unnecessary war. Erika hadn’t left the Republican Party she’d been raised in, and sheer stubbornness would see her keep to it until she could exact a takeover of its leadership. Her instance on staying with Julia would destroy her chances at succeeding in her ambitions.

And yet…

Erika’s lips capture hers, and Julia melts into the kiss.

Had it truly been over two hundred years since she’d last allowed herself this?


End file.
